


Day Off.

by unrrrrealistic



Series: Crane's Face Reveals. [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Face Reveal, Gen, IDK??????, YES THE PLACE IS KINDA STRANGE OKAY, i hate tags im-, im fragile pls be nice, im so old i dont know how this site works, the j squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 04:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrrrrealistic/pseuds/unrrrrealistic
Summary: Jonathan is ready to start the day with his mask, but it's nowhere to be found and... he has to face Jerome and Jervis about it.
Series: Crane's Face Reveals. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550044
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Day Off.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a writer at all, someone in a tumblr group chat encouraged me to do this, so I apologize for any strange writing or just plain yi-yikes style and... yeah that's pretty much it. Hope you like it! 
> 
> Shoutout to @shortandverynerdy for helping me with the writing!

Jonathan looks down at a pair of scissors in the sink. “It’s about time.” He quietly says, as he finishes to make a tight grip around his hips with the dark grey towel.

He moves his hand over the steamy mirror to clear the surface, grabs the scissors and stares at himself for a couple of seconds. _Dear god my sight is on a thin risk,_ the wet strands of hair falling to his forehead, the ends resting on the middle of his cheeks. He doesn’t mind long hair, he rather enjoys it, especially the messy attempt of bangs, till they get on his sight.

It has been a while since Jonathan looked at himself in the mirror (four months to be exact, the last time he took care of his hair), mostly for the fright of seeing the scarecrow there, it manifesting in full body every time. He shakes his head and groans. _Too early to think about that._

Measures how many fingers he needs to put around his hair, so when it’s fully dried, it doesn’t shrink too far. Always assuring it covers his forehead.

Four fingers.

He measures per finger and cuts, dripping wet hair falling on the sink. _I’ll clean that later._ After finishing, the messy attempt of bangs are now brushing with his eyelashes, it doesn’t stop him to keep analyzing his aspect. He can’t help but notice the all-nighters bags under his eyes, despite of being with the mask most of the time. The sight of those dark circles upsets him, definitively must procure to sleep better, at least more than 4 hours, that could help him to get inspired for modifications of the fear gas. But once again... _scarecrow._

Damned the night he felt that injection killing the last trace of peace he had. Damned doctor Crane.

 _It’s so stupid to look at yourself in the mirror and wander in useless thoughts,_ Jonathan frowns at himself. Avoiding mirrors also means blocking any introspective, as the concept of not being completely sure of how much you change with the passing of time, helps immensely to not bother about whatever your physical shows at all. He’s somehow surprised at still finding emotions behind his brown eyes... mildly irritated, tired, in need of morning coffee.

He grabs the strands of hair from the sink with a hand, steps down to the trash can under the sink, throws the hair and closes the trash can, composes himself in front of the mirror and washes his hands, drying them with his own towel on his body.

He turns around and walks to the opposite side of the rather too-big-for-his-taste bathroom wooden cabinets and slides to his direction the first row, looking for his mask. It isn’t there. He takes a deep breath and opens the faucet down the drawer. It isn’t there either. He goes out to his bedroom and checks the desk where he usually works on his formulas, it isn’t there either. Trying to remember if he has it drying out in the washer, or if it’s somewhere else in his turmoil of a room, nothing tracks back to him.

It isn’t really the mask being the shield against his phobia, but the mere illusion of no one seeing your face, and therefore not having a single glimpse of your emotionality. So he fucking wants that right now.

There is one small possibility, he huffs and stomps his foot on the wooden floor, _those two better not mess with my mask or I swear to god..._

Checks if his towel knot is tight enough.

A rather silly but firm military walk from his bedroom, passing through the all empty hallway with dark red velvet walls, the sound of awful Saturday cartoons television getting clearer and clearer as he approaches to the living room.

“Tetch. Valeska. Where is my mask?” His tone raises at the same time as his anxiety, he has never been without the mask for this long. “Did one of you hide it? Where is it?” He stands besides the black couch, none of them is aware of Jonathan’s presence. “I said. Where. Is. My. Mask?” He repeats raising his voice higher and in a lower tone.

“What are you talking about, Jonny if-“ Jerome starts, turning his head to his side, at the first sight of Jonathan, his words are gone.

“Jerome, where is my mask? I’m asking nicely.”

Jerome pokes Jervis’s arm a couple of times, Jervis shakes his own arm and focuses on the Grimm brothers cartoon. Jonathan clears his throat and Jerome once again pokes Jervis’s arm. “Jerome, what do you want?” Jervis hisses as he looks at him, then his eyes trail up to find a chest naked, dripping wet Jonathan without his mask, frowning at him.

The sight Jonathan is dealing with right now is just idiotic: Jerome and Jervis with wide eyes and jaws dropped.

“Mister Tetch, where is my mask?” Jonathan is starting to feel like an elementary school teacher, pleading for her uneasy students to behave, -terrible association, but what can he do? It’s the first thought he comes up with-, he is as tired and annoyed. “Jervis Tetch... my mask. Where is it?”

Jervis blinks a couple of times. “You’re not mister Crane, you’re an intruder!”

Jerome nods at the perverse affirmation. “If you’re our dear Jonny boy, tell us something only he knows.” Jerome wiggles his orange eyebrows.

_Oh, how smart of you Jerome. I’m going to strangle you._

Jonathan looks at the ceiling, maybe to gather some patience, sighs and stares at Jerome, with big hopes of sending daggers to his eyes. “You once drank toilet water, after all the water jars in the fridge were empty, because as your dull thought process was that the sink water can give you a stomach ache, then toilet water comes from basically nowhere, so you took a full cup of it. And you had stomach ache for two days.” He rolls his eyes at how Jerome sinks into the couch, with crossed arms. “Now... mister Tetch, after a couple of years of maintained trauma, you still talk about Alice in your sleep. Won’t say explicit words, but mister... you get a little too loud about what you say and I’m gonna be quite frank: it’s disturbing.”

Tetch flusters and composes himself, going back to the cartoons, only to find well marked vintage Japanese credits, accompanied by an annoying song also in Japanese.

“I’ll let that pass, because you’re unexpectedly cute, Jonny.” Jerome smirks and Jonathan truly wants to punch him in the face.

But instead, he feels the hot flush covering his cheeks in a light pink color, he is conscious about being without the mask, just now it comes to him the reason why he got such strange reactions from both of his allies: it’s the first time they have ever seen his face.

Jervis hums in agreement. “Jonny boy is adorable but we have to keep it coy.” Jervis chuckles, reaching in the coffee table in front of him, for the remote control, to turn the tv off.

“Jervis... that’s the worst rhyme you’ve said... and I hate all of them.” The raw honesty in Jerome’s voice brings Jonathan back to the situation.

“Where is my mask?” Jonathan exclaims. “I’m on the verge of strangling one of you till you tell me where is it.”

“Mister Crane, with all my humble sincerity... I can assure you I’m not aware of where your dear mask may be hidden.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” Jerome stands up. “We’re not going out today, Jonny, take some fresh air here, baghead.”

**Sometimes Jonathan wishes he didn’t give any importance to Jerome’s value to the group, _just to throw the ginger out of a window._**

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... that was trash rip but hey Jonathan and the J Squad deserve all the love in the world and god knows I tried.


End file.
